Bittersweet
by Nightmyr
Summary: VinceOFC Life is changing for introverted Talia: she no longer likes her bestfriend, the band in which she plays has started to get recognition, and she's caught the interest of guy named Vince, but she doesn't quite know how to deal with any of it.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Bittersweet  
Author: Nightmyr  
Summary: Life is changing for introverted Talia: she no longer likes her life-long best-friend, but doesn't know how to break off the friendship; the band for which she plays bass has started to get recognition, but they're not playing the type of music they love; she's caught the interest of an extroverted guy named Vince, but doesn't quite know how to react to the attention or how to reciprocate.  
Rating: R  
Status: Work in Progress  
Started: November 4, 2001  
Myr's comment: This fic may seem familiar to some readers, and that would be because it is a re-write. I now have a wonderful beta (SCSPaine) who is helping me re-capture my Vince muse. All feedback is welcome and appreciated.

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**Bittersweet**  
Chapter 1

I hesitated slightly and Syd, with her hands on my hips, practically pushed me through the door. "Come on Talia, move that ass." She said teasingly, emphasizing the last word with a pat to my rear.

The noise level was frighteningly high; I could feel bass vibrations traveling across the floor and through my bones, I could visualize decibels filtering through my inner ear causing the hammer to drum away furiously. It seemed as though every piece of electronic equipment in the house was powered; all the lights were on, a videogame competition was being showcased on television, Rap music was blaring through the stereo, and somewhere, someone was playing with an electric guitar.

There were lots of people dancing, drinking, and making-out shamelessly. These were obviously individuals not only comfortable being themselves, but also flaunting it. Syd fit right in; with her perfect body and all its desirable curves, with her perfect makeup and hair that took over an hour to apply and arrange, with her perfect sense of style that never failed to make people take notice of her. All right, so I'm exaggerating to prove a point. I know she's a far cry from perfection (the quintessential question being: what is perfection?), but when she's surrounded by the right crowd her flaws seem to disappear and I end up sticking out like a sore thumb.

I didn't want to be there, but that's me and Syd for you. We're childhood friends; the relationship where the two individuals have grown apart to the point of not even liking each other anymore, but their hearts just can't seem to let go. We drive each other crazy, but at least we know our hearts are in the right place. So all this - never saying goodbye - leads us to constantly drag one another into situations where one of us is uncomfortable, all to please the other. It's a vicious circle, a circle of guilt on my part anyway.

Syd hardly has any friends, I mean real friends; acquaintances she has by the score. I'm pretty much IT for her. I'm the one she calls in the middle of the night when no one awake is willing to listen to whatever thoughts are flitting through her mind at the time. I'm the one she spills out her heart to. In fact, I think I'm the only one that's ever seen her cry. Some might say it's nice to be IT for someone; their one and only best-friend. I don't find it nice. Sometimes I downright hate it. Being her IT makes me feel ashamed, because she's not my IT anymore. Sometimes I say things to her and think things about her that a good friend shouldn't and wouldn't say or think. But what really makes it unbearable is that she always forgives me, even when I don't ask for forgiveness. So, if she comes to see me when I'm with my friends, makes herself uncomfortable for a few hours for the simple 'pleasure' of being with me, I feel guilty. And, of course, I have to repay her in kind if I want the vise around my heart to loosen its grip.

Today my friends and I had a gig; a horde of bands getting together for a big concert in the park to celebrate the beginning of summer and the accompanying freedom. We're a punk band, not our choice of music or style, but apparently Punk is what we're good at. I think it has something to do with our vibe; we're too playful, and don't have enough bitterness to successfully render Alternative Rock. Which is ironic (seeing as our name is Bitter), but not really, since the inspiration for our name didn't stem from the emotion, but rather from an argument about dark chocolate. It never fails either; no matter how depressing the lyrics may be, we just come across sounding perfectly delighted.

We have a pretty big following considering that we're still 'underground'. Technology and the Internet have done wonders in that department; we even have fans in Tokyo! And none of it is of our doing either; it's our fans here that started the epidemic by bootlegging our shows and sending them over the Net to their friends, wherever they might live. After shows, people kept asking us for more information, whether it was for personal details or for more concert dates and locations, so a few months ago we finally set up a website, nothing big; one of those free web-hosts. Music is only our hobby after all; we hold no delusions of making it in the 'biz', we're all in university on quests for solid degrees in business management, actuarial science, electrical engineering, architecture, and pharmacology.

Syd came to see our show. She came to a Skater Punk concert in the park dressed in a tight black miniskirt with slits a tad too high, an unbuttoned blouse (just enough to show her lacy bra underneath), and black spike heeled boots. Saying that she got a few curious sideways glances is an understatement. In fact, I'm pretty sure a few girls even asked her if she was lost, or needed help looking for some safety pins to keep her clothes from coming undone any further. So I felt guilty again. That's how I ended up at a party where I didn't want to be; she wanted to be there, and she wanted me there with her.

Syd removed her hands from my hips to grab for my right hand when she noticed that my apprehension wasn't going away. I always dreaded being at the parties she dragged me to. I never fit in. Not that I ever really tried to either. In my normal clothes I could easily get away with passing unnoticed, park myself in a spot and not move the whole night without drawing any undue attention, but I was still in my skater punk clothes from the concert; sneakers, big, baggy cargo pants, and a long, black t-shirt that reached mid-thigh. The shirt had a design of a smug guy on his skateboard on the front, and the same guy bleeding from his knees and elbows on the back, with the word 'Amateur' written in bold white letters across my butt. My only accessories: a bunch of thread-bracelets that crawled up my forearm, as well as a few strings around my neck. My makeup was even less striking seeing as I had wiped off all the excess muck after the show. Yes, it's quite a sad fact that makeup turns to muck after a mere 40 minutes of sweating on stage.

She pulled me in the direction of the living room where girls, even less dressed than Syd, were dancing seductively if not provocatively. Then, as an arm circled her waist, she was pulled away and the grip on my hand vanished. He held her close to his side as he dragged her to the other end of the room, and sat her in his lap once he was seated in a comfy armchair. He wore dark blue jeans and a maroon mesh tank top over another green army camouflage one; his heavily tattooed and muscular arms fully exposed. I glared at him._Who does he think he is?_ But when Syd looked at him she was totally at ease and laughed._So, obviously, they know each other_.I suddenly felt even more estranged. Syd looked at me with an expression that seemed to say 'I'm sorry' and shrugged her shoulders. He noticed her movements and looked in my direction._Probably trying to figure out who's stealing her attention away from his worship-worthy physique_.Even with my thoughts dripping of sarcasm, I had to be honest with myself and admit that his body was indeed lust-inducing, but in no way would I let that affect my judgment. His harsh gaze met mine and immediately looked me up and down. I could read his eyes; he was thinking_What the hell are you doing here, sure you got the right party?_I wanted to dismiss that look, but it aggravated me, and the only thing I could think was:_Bite me!_


	2. Chapter 2

Myr's comments: Thank you to Steph, my wonderful beta. Thank you to Angela for letting me use her great lyrics as Talia's. Thank you to those who have reviewed, I'm glad I could change your mind about fics written in the 1st person. And again, all feedback is welcome and appreciated.

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**Bittersweet  
**Chapter 2

Syd noticed his appraisal of me and, not too happily, hit him on the arm. It wasn't a painful blow, just a 'stop that!' open handed thwack. He feigned pain and innocence. I couldn't stop a grin from forming at the sight of his theatrical flair, _'Oh, why doest thou seek to harm me so?'_ But the humor quickly evaporated as he returned his gaze back to me, still doubtful, curious… suspicious.

I started to feel uncomfortable standing there on display in the middle of the entrance hall. My sense of unease intensified when a clingy couple found me to be an obstacle, and instead of quickly brushing past me, they lingered to examine me. Their perusal jerked me into action and I walked with conviction towards Syd.

His eyebrows rose as I got closer. _He must be wondering how I'd dare go near him when a 'don't feed the animals' sign is so obviously hanging over his head._

Once my target was reached I shifted my gaze to Syd. "Gimme your keys." It was an order, not a question, but that didn't seem to faze her.

Her lips quirked up and gestured a hand between myself and The Brute, "Talia - Vince. Vince - my best-friend Talia." He seemed slightly surprised to hear of my status and looked me up and down again. _Jesus! Would you stop doing that._ I felt the urge to say 'Wanna take a picture, it'll last longer' but, that being such a tacky line, I offered a terse "Hi" instead. He grunted, and I noticed his hand resting on Syd's thigh give me a weak 3 finger wave.

"Keys," I reminded her.

"Why? You're not leaving are you?" Her smile dripped of bad soap-opera acting.

I took my cue from her and put on my sweetest vanilla frosted smile, and enunciated every word clearly, "No, this is just my insurance that you won't forget me when you do decide to leave." She took no offence to my comment, just chuckled a bit and took her keys out of her itty-bitty purse and handed them over to me. I grabbed the keys and headed for the front door, ignoring each pair of eyes that observed me.

Once outside I took a deep breath of fresh air, and softly let it out as a sigh. I made my way down the wooden porch steps and walked across the street to Syd's car. I wondered what I had brought with me when I had quickly made my backpack that morning; the band had been waiting for me in the van, repetitiously honking the horn, probably because they knew it grated my nerves and thought it would make me go faster…it did. We were already 20 minutes late for rehearsal and I failed to see the enormity of one more minute.

It was a hectic day, but also one of the greatest…unfortunately this party was slowly altering that perception; it was starting to feel like a really unpleasant night. I rummaged through my pack _Come on, there has to be something for me to do while I wait for this ritual of torture to end._I found my portable CD player, 3 of my favorite CDs, and sheet music. Though, not how I had hoped to spend the evening, the night was salvageable; I could get some work done.

Walking back toward the house, I stopped in the middle of the street, right on the yellow line. There was no traffic, all the parking spaces were filled with fast looking cars, but not one engine was heard. I looked at the houses, not just houses, they were homes; some of the yards had toys scattered across the front lawn, some porches had rocking chairs and tea tables placed at a perfect angle so as to avoid an accident should the door be opened unexpectedly. The neighborhood looked nice, peaceful, and safe. It looked like a good place to raise kids, lounge on the porch and share a pitcher of iced tea with a neighbor on those really hot summer afternoons, and have family brunches on Sundays. I felt at ease, standing there in the middle of the street, I wasn't the one out of place here, this party was.

Before going back into the Hellhole I took another calming breath. I didn't want to go back, but I knew that it was better to tell Syd where I was than to have her guessing; every minute not spent searching for me, was a minute less spent here. I opened the door and I could feel the suffocating presence of too many people in an enclosed space, and I could hear the dreadful music again. It's not the music itself that irritated me, it was the loudness of it; I had already had my fill today at the concert, I didn't want any more. What I needed was soft music and profound lyrics in a dimly lit, quiet backyard; a place where I could get inspired by the slow movement of the stars and satellites to write a meaningful song of my own.

Closing the door behind me, I looked over at the armchair in the opposite corner. Syd, to my surprise, wasn't on Vince's lap anymore. I looked at his exasperated expression and followed his gaze. He was looking at the girls dancing, more specifically looking at Syd dance. Although, I say the word 'dance' loosely, 'undulate' might be a more precise term. She was in fact putting on a show meant only for him.

I couldn't understand why Vince wasn't pleased with Syd dancing so lasciviously for him. I looked at Vince again and his name and his appearance registered in my brain and then everything made sense. Syd had told me about Vince. He was probably the only one that had ever rejected Syd's sexual advances and treated her as a friend instead. For that, even though I had never met him, I had really respected him.

_Oh God, I so don't wanna see this. When is she gonna learn._ I made a beeline for the backyard through the kitchen, opening the porch light on the way out. I was relieved to see a picnic table; I wasn't in the mood to sit on bug-infested grass or, in this case, warm and dirty pavement.

I dumped my pack on the tabletop as I contorted my way onto the bench seat. I placed my earphones on and pushed play. With my back to the light the stars were fully visible. I fought the urge to lie down on the tabletop to have a better view of the night sky. I splayed the sheet music in front of me, pen ready in hand…I stared at the blank page. _Nothing._ I looked up again and waited and waited. I turned off the music playing in my ears because I couldn't seem to focus on any thought or feeling without them being corrupted. A moment, then two, then inspiration hit. I hunched over my paper and started scribbling draft after draft.

_A life of contradiction, a road that cuts into hell. Torn between perfection and flaw, being human and divine.  
So you cut yourself, desperate to prove there's something more to feel. And when there's nothing left to cut, you wonder why.  
A beautiful scar, the remainder of what you are. Though blood be gone, and time moves on, everything is still the same. A strung out junkie, drawn towards the flame, attention being all that you crave.  
So you cut yourself, desperate to prove there's something more to feel. And when there's nothing left to cut, you wonder why.  
_  
I read it over and smiled contentedly. Leaning my head over my crossed arms, my eyelids slowly closed.


	3. Chapter 3

Myr's comments: Thanks always to betta-rific Steph. Thanks again to those who have reviewed, and yes I will keep updating (just really a matter of time, lol, keep faith!). All feedback is welcome and appreciated.

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**Bittersweet**

Chapter 3

The sensation of something gently gliding across my cheek brought me back to consciousness. It abruptly stopped when I grunted my displeasure at being awakened. I attempted to stretch and get comfortable, but suddenly became quite aware of my body as sharp pain erupted along the length of my spine, so I very slowly raised my head and straightened my back. _I'm sitting. Why am I sitting. _I opened my eyes to see the top of a wooden table and my stuff splayed all over it. _I'm sitting outside. Oh shit, I'm still here._ I looked at my watch – 4:12 AM – and cringed. The lack of music, the lack of any sound at all, indicated that the party was long over. _Oh fuck._

A pair of legs walked around the table till a torso sat facing me on the opposite bench. I shifted my gaze a little higher to take in the face that would complete the whole and, somehow, wasn't surprised that it was Vince; he was, after all, the only person here that I'd met. He seemed a lot more relaxed now. "Looks like you had a party of your own out here, huh?" he said, while carefully picking up my papers and arranging them into one neat pile. I guessed he was doing it as a favor to me; I just couldn't bring myself to believe he was a compulsive neat-freak. I didn't comment back, I just kept dazedly staring, hoping he would get to the point; I was in too sore a state and too ornery a mood for inanities. He didn't keep me waiting long. "Syd left."

That statement cleared the remaining fog from my mind considerably well. "What?"

"Yeah. Said she'd be back later for her keys, but that was a few hours ago, so I wouldn't expect to see her ass till tomorrow if I were you."

"She left! How?" He gave me a look that said _How else?_ And taking her past into account, it really was a stupid question. The answer easily came to the forefront of my mind: she got a ride with some bloke whose bones she's probably jumping as we speak. "Oh. Well I guess my key-as-insurance idea wasn't that great after all." I mostly mumbled this to myself, but I'm sure he heard every word; the fact that a smile broke over his lips was a big indication of that.

When I had made the insurance comment to Syd, I had meant it as a joke, but now I realized that some part of me had been serious. I should have been fuming, but I wasn't even mad because, though I had hoped for the contrary, I had expected her to leave me all along. Leave me here so she could spend the night with some guy who called her 'Babe' because he couldn't be bothered to learn her name for the duration of the night. I wasn't mad because I knew that she would be calling me tomorrow with a million apologies. And I would be able to hear tears in her voice when she would tell me about the previous night's happenings and how the guy had treated her that morning as though nothing had happened, making her feel like a stupid slut; used and then forgotten. She never learned, or maybe she was just a hopeless romantic looking for love in all the wrong places.

However much I wanted to, I didn't mumble or grumble as I stuffed my things in my backpack; I stayed silent while he kept sitting there watching me. As I stood up, my body screaming at me to stop moving, I asked, "Can I use the phone?"

"Yeah, in the kitchen," he answered, pointing back at the house. I shouldered my pack and made my way to the phone.

I got the operator on the line and asked for a Taxi service, "Yes, connect me please." I heard the back door close and he came to stand beside me, his eyes observing me questioningly. "Yes I need a ride from… a minute please," I put my hand on the phone's voice receiver and turned to face him, "What's the address here?" He didn't answer; he just leaned over and pushed the hang-up button with his fingers. I looked at him, my eyes clearly asking _What the hell was that for?_

"You have Syd's keys, girl. Why don't you just take her car to go home?"

I rolled my eyes back in my head in exasperation, although it was hardly his fault everyone asked me the same question, forcing me to repeat my practiced speech, "Because, I don't know how to drive." He looked at me with an incredulous air. "I've never needed to learn! I get driven everywhere, and everywhere I usually need to get to is also accessible through public transportation."

He smiled and shook his head from side to side in disbelief. "Come on, I'll give you a ride."

"What?" He put his hand on my back, aiming me toward the front door.

"I'm giving your pathetic non-driving ass a lift home."

"As appealing as that offer sounds, I'm gonna say no. I'll call a cab. Hell! I was calling a cab. Besides, you've been drinking."

"I only had two lousy beers, and I finished the last one a few hours ago. And just so you know, nothing affects my driving ability. Besides, baby, you think I would let you take a cab at this hour? I don't think so. Or maybe you wanna sleep over? You did look awfully comfy at the picnic table."

I contemplated what he was saying, ignoring his cockiness and sarcasm. "Okay, close your eyes, outstretch your arm, and bending at the elbow, touch your nose with your index finger." He did it, to humor me mostly, but also to convince me. "Fine. You ready?" He patted his pocket to assure himself he was in possession of his wallet and keys and nodded affirmatively. He then turned me around and, again placing his hand in the middle of my back, directed me out of the house.

Once outside, he clicked on his keys and a "beep beep" noise was heard coming from his car as the headlights flashed on and off twice. Even though I now knew which car was his, he didn't remove his hand from my back. _Controlling little bastard, aren't ya? Do you think I'll suddenly change my mind and run like an escaped mental patient down the street in the opposite direction?_ Of course, if looked at objectively, if I had been someone else – someone completely comfortable with touch – or if he had been someone else – someone I was familiar with – then the gesture could have been perceived as gallant. But I was still me, and he was still someone I'd shared only a few words with.

He only removed his hand once we had reached the passenger door and, as he made his way around to the other side, ordered, "Get in." I got in, put my pack on the floor in between my feet and fastened the seatbelt securely. When he got in, I told him a few general directions that lead to my house, to which he just nodded as he turned on the motor and shifted gears. He also turned off the music. I don't know if it was because his ears were still ringing from having been at the party all night or if it was the influence of the calm early morning hour. Unfortunately, for me the silence was uncomfortable, so I busied myself by exploring my surroundings. The car was hi-tech; there was a multitude of little buttons on the dashboard. _How…weird._ The car was also immaculate; not a speck of dirt other than on the protective carpets under our feet. And though it didn't have a New Car smell, it did smell lemony, making me re-think the likelihood of his clean-freak status.

Four minutes into the quiet drive he finally spoke, "So, how did you become friends with Syd? Cause you two really don't look like you'd click." He said this while eyeing me again, this time having less to do with judgments, and more as a means of trying to reconcile my appearance with that of Syd's.

"We're childhood friends. She moved to my street, a home a few houses down from mine, when we were only two years old. We became automatic friends. Of course, us being the only children on that street sorta helped with that outcome. But you're right; we probably wouldn't click if we met now." That was the nice, polite answer, but something about him, maybe his own frankness, made me want to carry on and divulge the whole truth. "Who am I kidding! We don't click. We haven't clicked in a really long time. You know that line 'I love her, but I can't stand her'? Well that's us. The best that I can figure it is that we really suck at ignoring each other."

"Syd's hard to ignore."

"She makes it damn near impossible." He laughed, a soft throaty rumble, while nodding his head in agreement. "Take this exit." I said, pointing to the road, "It'll save us three minutes."

"So, if you've been buds for so long, then how come I've never heard of you before?" he continued, after having complied with my directive.

"I don't know. I just sum it up to your relationship not being based on vocal communication."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean? She and I aren't screwing each other if that's what you're hinting at." He wasn't angry. He didn't even seem insulted. His eyes actually held an air of playfulness.

"I know. Sorry, I didn't mean it like it sounded. I just meant that it seems like you have a friendship strongly based on appearances. You know, if you have a knock-out like Syd hanging off your arm… it can't be anything but all good, right?" _Oh my god, did I just call him shallow?_ I hadn't meant that like it sounded either. I looked at him, hoping he wouldn't get insulted. I almost laughed at my ability to put my foot in my mouth. _Watch it Talia, you're getting mighty flexible there._

"Oh, cause that is so much better." He replied teasingly, and laughed when I exaggeratingly brought my palm to cover my face in embarrassment. "How do you know she and I have never gotten it on?"

"Cause I'm the one she has the verbal communication relationship with." I smiled at my own wit. He laughed and nodded in a way that indicated he agreed it was indeed a 'good one'. "Turn left at the next light."

"Okay. So you're the one Syd's always blabbing to, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Unless she got herself another friend she hasn't told me about."

"Would that mean that you're the one she talked to all freakin' night long when she crashed over at my place two weeks ago?"

"Umm…I wouldn't really remember. I tend to be a little hazy when it comes to those conversations. The only way I really know that I talked to her at all during the night is if I wake up in the morning with the phone in my hand." He didn't seem surprised to hear this.

"So you don't remember jack about that conversation?"

"Nope, my mind's drawing a blissful blank. Turn right at the next stop, and my house is the 7th one on the right side."

"Well you know, I talked to you that night," he said this while looking at me and smiling.

"Really, we talked?" I raised my eyebrows in astonishment and couldn't help myself from responding with a smile of my own. "Are you sure I was awake?"

"Umm no, not really. You could have been asleep, but I was drunk and didn't really care. Don't worry about it though; it was mostly a joke, nothing worth remembering. Syd made me beg you for mercy. See, she was complaining that I was piss-ass drunk and not listening to her seriously enough, so instead she had to wake you up to talk. She said that you would hunt me down and hurt me because it was all my fault that she was bothering you in the middle of the night. She said that it was better to plead now than to have to grovel at your feet later." I laughed at the improbability of me ever dealing out any form of punishment on a stranger, much less a massively muscular stranger like Vince. He let my laughter die down before continuing, "So what else has she said to you? About me that is." I thought a while before answering; I knew that he wasn't looking for a simple dismissive answer to his probing question. He wanted this to be serious and informative, probably wanted it to lead to something that he couldn't bring himself to discuss privately with Syd.

"Nothing else really. Just that you and her never hitting it off that way wasn't her decision. That she was obsessed with you for the better part of a month. That when she was getting desperate for your 'physical' attention she'd planned to get you drunk. But then I broke the news to her that when guys are drunk it's really hard for Little Dickey to 'rise to the occasion'. So she changed her strategy after that."

"Changed strategy?"

"Yeah. She decided on a make-him-jealous-by-going-after-other-guys method. But it sort of backfired; she actually ended up falling for those other guys. I think it would have left you in the dusty back rooms of her heart, if you hadn't become her friend instead." Sometime during my little speech we had arrived at our destination. I looked over at my house, my parents had left the porch light on for me. I made no move to leave; I knew that I hadn't answered his unasked question, and leaving him now would only be cruel.

"Just so I'm clear, she's over me right?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

I wanted to continue this conversation; there were so many little things that I was getting curious about. But he smiled and that was my cue to leave. I grabbed my backpack and pulled the door handle, then turned back in my seat as I remembered something. "Oh! Here," I handed him Syd's keys, "She'll be going to your place since the car's still there." I had one leg out the door when curiosity finally got the better of me, and I couldn't stop myself from asking, "So what made you different from everyone else?" The confusion in his eyes made it clear that my train of thought had jumped tracks. "How come you never slept with her?"

He took a deep breath, gathered his thoughts and looked me in the eyes. I knew then that he was going to be completely honest with me, even if it tarnished his tough-guy rep. "I stopped looking at her body and actually looked at her. I'd lost the race. Girls don't usually throw themselves at you when you lose a race. So I looked her in the eye to try and figure out what she was up to. And that's when I saw she wanted more than just a good time. I wasn't interested in that, so we got drunk and hung out instead. You know, the things she does, the person she tries to be, her heart is really too big for that shit."

"Yeah, I know. She'll learn eventually, right?" He gave a hopeful smile in response. "Anyway, thanks for the ride." I got out and bid him good-bye as I closed the car door. He didn't drive off until I had safely entered my home and closed the porch light; another surprisingly gallant gesture.


End file.
